A Foolish Hope
by star54kar
Summary: Peter Pettigrew shivered uneasily as he Apparated to the edge of the werewolf stronghold.


**Title:** A Foolish Hope  
**Summary:** _Peter Pettigrew shivered uneasily as he Apparated to the edge of the werewolf stronghold_.  
**Character(s):** Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word-count: **1,226**  
Warnings:** None  
**Author's Notes:** It was a pleasure to write for you, ani_bester! This was my first attempt at writing Peter Pettigrew and I sincerely hope that you enjoy it:) Thank you to queenb23more for the beta.

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**A Foolish Hope**

Peter Pettigrew shivered uneasily as he Apparated to the edge of the werewolf stronghold. The cold night air was damp and the fierce bite of the wind instantly brought a chill to his exposed skin. He pulled his cloak in tighter around himself in a futile attempt to stay off the cold and continued on his journey to the camp. He had come to deliver a message to Fenrir Greyback, and was bitter about having been given such a meaningless task. Despite the fact that it was due to _him_ that the Dark Lord had been able to regain his corporeal form, Peter had not been given any place of honor in his court and was in essence no more than a lowly errand boy.

When he was initially approached by the Death Eaters all those years ago, the choice was simple: he could join the ranks of the Dark Lord or suffer an agonizing death. It was a decision he made with a heavy heart, but the Dark Lord was taking over the wizarding world piece by piece, and Peter was convinced that, at that rate, he would surely emerge victorious in the end. While it honestly pained him to work against his friends, Peter desperately wanted to survive the war and knew that he had no other choice.

He had accomplished so much more than any of his Lord's supposed favorites because he was continuously underestimated. Peter was very good in his role as a spy because he knew how to use that to his advantage, and he had hoped that when he provided his master with the location of the Potter's house that James would finally see reason and stop his futile opposition, but unfortunately, that was never meant to be.

Peter was also resourceful. When his Master's plans backfired in Godric's Hallow and the Dark Lord mysteriously disappeared, Peter quickly and cleverly covered his tracks by faking his own death. When the dust had finally settled, Sirius Black, the only one who knew of his betrayal, was left to take the fall, and the entire wizarding world believed he had died a hero.

He survived, thrived even in his years as a rat, gathering scores of valuable information from the Weasley family and, as luck would have it, found himself in an ideal position when young Ronald befriended none other than Harry Potter. When his cover was blown, it was _he_ who finally managed locate the Dark Lord, _he_ who subdued James's son, and he who willingly sacrificed his hand in order to bring his Master back to his former glory. Unfortunately, despite his many successes, it seemed that he would continue to be thought of having little worth. While it was a blow to his pride, Peter had no other choice but to fall in line. He would continue to do whatever he had to in order to stay alive; otherwise, it would have all been for nothing.

A few thin, feeble rays of light were able to penetrate the tangle of branches of the thick cluster of trees that surrounded the camp from the crescent moon above, casting eerie shadows that added to the forbidden atmosphere, provoking Peter to pick up his pace. Determined to carry on with his task and leave this place as soon as possible, Peter emerged from the cover of the trees and abruptly came to a halt at the very edge of the camp. He was utterly stunned by what he saw and stood frozen for a moment, blinking stupidly in his shock, but there was no denying the evidence of his sight. Against all odds, his old friend, Remus Lupin was here, walking among the likes of the most vicious killers of the werewolf encampment!

His blood ran cold at the thought of their last meeting. Gentle Remus, who would never harm so much as a fly so long as the moon was not full, had been fully prepared to murder Peter where he stood, unarmed and defenseless. So, of course it begged the question: what in Merlin's name was Remus doing here? Could it possibly be that his old friend finally understood that there was nothing to gain by fighting the overwhelming power of the Dark Lord? Had the world at large finally shunned him enough that he could be finally looking out for himself and his own best interests? Or was he merely here as a spy? Despite the fact that he knew the later was more likely, Peter felt a faint glimmer of hope that perhaps all was not lost. If Remus had truly managed to finally understand Peter's motives and chosen a similar course for himself then perhaps this one connection to his past wouldn't have to remain permanently shattered.

Perhaps it was a fool's hope, but Peter couldn't help longing to hear his old nickname spoken with friendly affection rather than with the contempt he had grown accustomed to over the years. Either way, he knew that there was only one way to find out. He took a deep breath and pulled out his wand, holding it steady in the firm grip of his silver hand as he inched closer to his former friend. He could do this. While Peter had been at a disadvantage the last time they met, he knew that this time, he was the one who held the position of power.

He was careful to maintain a comfortable measure of distance between them as he advanced and, as expected, it did not take long for Remus to turn his head in Peter's direction. Their eyes met and for a moment, it seemed to Peter as if the entire world had melted away until there was only the two of them. Time itself appeared to stand still as Peter desperately searched Remus's eyes for the smallest sign of understanding.

He didn't find one.

The moment their eyes met, there was no mistaking the rage and pain that was clearly evident on Remus's face, even from the distance from where he stood. The momentary spell was broken and Remus slowly and purposefully began to close the distance between them until they were standing only a few feet apart near the edge of the encampment. Peter grasped his wand tighter and trembled under the intense heat of Remus's gaze which was practically screaming, "_Betrayer!"_ and "_Murderer!_" from deep within their depths.

They stood there for what seemed like ages, locked in a silent standoff, and Peter knew that he was going to have to sound the alarm. He opened his mouth but his words seemed to die in his throat.

"Goodbye, Peter," Remus said quietly, his voice laced with an intense mixture of emotion.

Peter quickly brought up his wand, ready to counter whatever curse Remus was about to throw in his direction, but to his astonishment, none was forthcoming. Remus had simply Apparated away, leaving him alone once more in the darkness.

Badly shaken by the unexpected confrontation, Peter let out a breath that he hadn't even realized that he was holding. As he hurried on his way to deliver his message, he felt an acute sense of loss with Remus's departure. It had been a foolish hope to believe that Remus had joined his side; Peter knew that.

So why did he suddenly feel so alone?


End file.
